Pink Velvet Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 9 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) Read Online Free PDF Page A

thank you,” she attempted
to smile at the polite little man, and followed him into the chandeliered
dining room.
    Once
seated, she ordered a glass of wine. The sublime vintage was worth every bit of
waiting and stress, and she found herself hoping that Priscilla wouldn’t make
it to the meeting after all. She ordered escargots for an appetizer, and
savored the tender morsels dripping with drawn garlic butter, mopping up the
excess with crusty slices of baguette. About halfway through her delightful
appetizer, she heard a rather loud, nasal voice complaining to the host.
    “What
do you mean she started without me? How could you allow this, Claude? Wow, how
rude can you be,” the voice huffed indignantly.
    Missy’s
fork stopped midway to her mouth when she saw a creature straight out of
Hollywood approaching her table, followed by a clearly apologetic host.
Priscilla Chadwick was dressed in yoga pants, a sequined sports bra, and a
fringed white leather jacket. Her heels were hot pink stilettos, and she
carried an ostrich bag that was larger than Missy’s carry-on luggage. Her long
blonde hair fell loosely about her shoulders, and she had so much makeup on
that she appeared faintly orange. She tossed her bag into the booth opposite
from where Missy sat, dumbfounded, and plopped onto the velvet seat.
    “Look,”
she began, her valley-girl affectation grating on Missy’s nerves already. “I
have no idea why Daddy hired you, okay? I know exactly what I want, and I will
have no problem getting it. The only thing that makes this whole “wedding
planner thing” less of a nightmare is that now, I get to call all of the shots
and you have to do all of the work. So let’s get something straight here, old
lady, I tell you what to do and you do it, end of story. Got it?” the spoiled
socialite ended her opening tirade, examining her fake nails as though she were
terribly bored.
    Missy
was quiet for a moment, trying to decide precisely how to respond, and jumped a
bit when a furry head popped out of Priscilla’s bag. The sweet little toy dog
had a pink bow in her fur, and her tongue hung out happily as she made her
appearance. Priscilla looked annoyed and pushed the poor creature back down
into the depths of the bag, zipping it shut. That action of careless disregard
for another living being decided Missy’s response. She had been inclined toward
graciously making the best of a bad situation by being polite until she could
tell the mayor that she couldn’t help his daughter, but after seeing the bratty
bride’s treatment of an adorable dog, she changed her mind and went in for a
full verbal assault.
    Leaning
across the table a bit, she smiled sweetly and unleashed a torrent of truth in
Prissy Priscilla’s direction. “Young lady, let me tell you something,” Missy
began, her southern drawl deepening with her passion. “You may be accustomed to
treating people like dirt and never suffering the consequences of your behavior,
but I don’t work that way. You are 45 minutes late to a luncheon that you arranged – that is unacceptable. You have also been nothing but rude to me from
the minute you walked in the door – also unacceptable. Your attitude is ugly,
and your treatment of that poor, defenseless animal in your purse is
nothing short of appalling. As for the nature of our arrangement, I work for
your father, not you, and I don’t take orders from anyone, period. You will not
tell me what to do or how to do it, and I will not be your little whipping
girl, you’d just better understand that from the get-go darlin. And just one
more thing, baby girl, I am not old, I am mature, and that’s something you’re
going to have to work long and hard to be able to say. Now you can stay and
have lunch and a civilized conversation with me while we talk about your wedding,
or you can take your rude little attitude on out of here and come back to me
when you’ve learned how to be civil, it’s completely up to you,” Missy